Outwitting the Enemy
by thinktink2
Summary: Part of the "Coming to Terms" Universe, a three-part, mostly fluff fic about fighting a war on multiple fronts.
1. Chapter 1

AN: As promised. A three part fic, with the first chapter to get you started. Happy New Year.

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She crept closer to the entrance, smiling benignly when she caught someone's eye, trying for all the world to look like someone who was just admiring the architecture—except there really wasn't any—or the art on the walls, and unless police bulletins qualified, she was at a loss there, too.

She peeked around the doorway and spied Nick at his desk, head bent over his work, looking studious, and handsome, and studiously handsome. She debated, watching him work, as he mulled over photos or witness statements, or both, from his latest case. She hated to ruin his day, but then, Valencia had ruined hers. Besides, she reminded herself, Kelly was Nick's son, too, so why shouldn't he share in all highs and lows associated with him. Never mind he had argued steadfastly against Kelly going to the daycare/school where they had met Valencia, or that he'd even been a willing/knowledgeable party to conceiving a child with her. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and marched in to the department, plastering a confident smile on her face, despite knowing that Nick was not going to be pleased by what she had to tell him.

"Adalind," Renard said when he caught sight of her and Nick looked up. "What are you doing here?"

She slid slightly hostile blue eyes towards her former lover, hoping he would take the hint and go away. Of course he didn't.

"I came to see Nick," she said pointedly, and Nick's curious face morphed into a slight frown as he leaned back.

"Why?"

Damn Sean. He was going to put Nick on edge with all his questions.

"Why do you care?" she shot back. "Is it any of your business?"

"Interrupting my detectives in my precinct while they're trying to work makes it my business."

Nick opened his mouth, likely to interject, but Adalind beat him to it.

"Oh. Okay, so, if I'm following, when you interrupt _my_ daughter's court-ordered weekend with you, because you decide you'd rather jet off somewhere with some Brazilian bimbo, than that makes it my business? Great. I can't wait to hear why your weekend special with some amazon trumped spending time with your daughter?"

"What's the matter? Jealous?" Sean said, affecting a sneer, but she could tell she hit a nerve. "And I'll have you know that was the Argentinean diplomat's daughter, and she's part of the Mayor's plan to broaden our diversity efforts."

"Oh, I'm sure you were broadening yours," Adalind sniped.

"Guys," Nick said.

"And I'm furious, because I'm the one that had to find some excuse as to why she wasn't important enough to her _father_ ," she mocked, "For her to spend time with. I don't even know why you bother, Sean. Go live your life and let us live ours. We'll be fine without you. In fact, why don't you start practicing now?" She raised her eyebrow challengingly and Sean eyed her coldly.

"Guys," Nick said again, looking perturbed. She felt bad, interrupting him and making a scene at the station, where she'd already made so many scenes, not the least of which was introducing herself to the department and all of Nick's coworkers as the grossly expectant _other woman_ when she had been pregnant with Kelly and had a vengeful Juliette to worry about.

She glanced around, caught a couple of gawkers before they looked away, and shot a look of apology at Nick, but he wasn't paying attention anyway. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, and Adalind shot another ugly look at Sean for getting Nick annoyed. Of course, the full reason for her expression escaped his meaning and he returned it before he finally, thankfully, took his leave.

"Sorry," she said to Nick, who just nodded his head. Crap, she didn't want to get him in a bad mood _before_ she gave him her news.

"What's going on?" he asked her, pulling his hand away from his face.

"Nothing, I just-" she started, wondering how best to frame it. She had had it all planned out, what she was going to say, had practiced in the car on the way to the station. "I just had something I wanted to discuss with you, and I thought it might be better to do it in person. It feels like I've hardly seen you all week, anyway," she added at his wary look.

Usually Nick's comings and goings were frequent and unpredictable, but this week it was actually her comings and goings that were keeping them from being able to have a few quiet moments together.

"I've missed you," she added, smiling softly at him and Nick nodded again.

Dammit.

His guard was up, wondering what she was here about, and what could involve a face-to-face discussion when so much of their conversations—serious, sexy, fun, flirty-had been conducted by phone in the past. In fact, it was well known by both of them (and pretty much all their friends) that Adalind loved to tease him over the phone.

"How's your case?" she asked him, still debating on how she wanted to work up to it.

"Fine. What's going on?"

She sighed and looked around for a chair, deciding to take Hank's since it was unoccupied.

"Where's Hank?" she asked.

"He went down to the morgue to get the coroner's report."

"Drew the short straw, huh?"

"Adalind, what is it you want to tell me?"

"If I told you I was leaving you, would you consider that to be the worst thing you could possibly hear from me?" she asked.

"What? What are you talking about—why are you—Adalind!" Nick finally got out. "What the hell is going on?"

"I mean, after hearing that, what I have to say couldn't be nearly that awful, could it?"

"What?" He replied, lovely arched brows furrowing in consternation.

"We got picked to spearhead the library committee."

Nick stared at her, uncomprehendingly. She smiled brightly, trying to put a positive spin on it. Nick stared for a beat longer before replying.

"So, if you left me, that would mean I wouldn't have to do whatever that is. Do you want me to help you pack?" he offered facetiously, and she scowled.

"No. And don't worry, I'm not leaving you."

"What if I left you?"

"Ha, ha."

"I'm not sure I'm joking," Nick said. "Is that some committee Valencia's on?"

"Maybe," she said, eyeing him. She didn't want to lie outright to him, having made it a point in their current relationship to be open and honest, but she could see now how that might be counterintuitive with what she was trying to achieve here.

"In that case, I think I'd prefer a divorce, you know? Just cut all ties completely."

"Well, you're not getting one."

"Crap," Nick said. "Why couldn't you tell her I've got more important things to do, like solve violent crimes?"

"You think you're the only one with something important to do?" she retorted. "I'm in the middle of a major buyout and I have a thousand motions to file."

"Great, so we're both too busy, so let's both do our jobs and tell her to find someone else to spearhead the committee."

"That's a good idea. Since it was yours, why don't _you_ tell her?"

Nick scowled and tossed his pen on his desk. They both knew he'd tried to go around Valencia before and he wasn't any more successful at backing out the event than Adalind.

He fidgeted with a pad of paper and a folder on his desk and looked at Adalind.

"Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way," he began, and she cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Maybe we should devise a more permanent solution to the Valencia problem, rather than having to worry about these periodic issues."

"What? Like _committing_ a violent crime?" she stage-whispered as she stared at him disbelievingly for a moment. Not that she wasn't tempted or hadn't thought about it herself.

"It's a thought. I bet we'd both feel better too. Plus, when was the last time you or I spent some time together as a couple?"

"Who will take care of our children while you and I are serving out our life sentences in prison? They don't let men and women share a cell, even if they are married."

"Well, obviously, the key is to not get caught," Nick said condescendingly. "My years of being a homicide detective should help with that."

"Yes, that's the solution," she replied sarcastically.

"Fine. Well, what do you suggest?"

"Sucking it up and doing what we need to do?"

"No, seriously. I mean, you're a former hexenbiest, surely there's a spell that will take care of what we need, without having to resort to that."

Adalind rolled her eyes.

"I'm just saying," Nick replied defensively. "There are times I weep for the days when you could fling somebody through the wall with a flick of your wrist or wreak havoc on someone's life with a potion and a well-thought out spell."

"Really? That somebody was typically you," she retorted. "I suppose if you miss it so much, we could add a little spice to the bedroom."

Though if they added any more flavoring, they'd probably overdose. She realized a moment too late she shouldn't have said it because Nick focused on her with a look of interest.

"No," she said.

"What?"

"Whatever you're thinking, forget it. I didn't come down here to volunteer for any bedroom experiments," she told him, sliding closer so she could keep her voice down and still be heard.

Nick eyed her calculatingly.

She didn't have _time_ for any bedroom experiments. She wasn't kidding when she told him she had a bunch of motions to file, in addition to the day to day duties of raising their son and daughter, and taking care of Nick, who could sometimes be a bigger baby than either of their two children put together. Like now.

"Doesn't have to be in the bedroom," he said, and she raised her eyebrow in polite disbelief, wondering if it was worth her time to pursue this curious comment. The decision was made for her though when Hank appeared, giving Adalind a healthy dose of side-eye.

"Adalind," he said, clutching a handful of papers in one hand.

"Hank," she replied, not moving from the chair she had appropriated.

"What brings you buy?" he continued after a pointed look at the chair under her and a glance at Nick.

"I had some things to discuss with my husband."

"Let me guess: Something with the school?"

"What makes you say that?" Adalind demanded.

"He only makes that face when it has something to do with the school."

"What face?" Nick asked.

"Your I'd-rather-deliver-an-unbezahlbar-from-a-seltenvogel-than-do-this expression," Adalind answered for Hank.

"I don't even know what that is," Hank said.

"Well, I would," Nick replied to Adalind. "Plus, I've got experience now, so it would be a piece of cake, especially compared to enduring the hell you're suggesting."

"Oh, don't be such a big baby."

"I'm not."

"Honestly, and they say hexenbiests have a flair for the dramatic."

"I think I'll go see if vice has any of the good donuts left," Hank said, eyes flicking between Adalind and Nick, but they were still staring each other down defiantly.

He left with barely a notice from either of them, Nick only flicking his attention momentarily to his partner before returning it just as quickly back to his wife. As though if he risked taking an eye off of her, she might succeed in snookering him into doing what she wanted.

What was he expecting? For her pull a burlap bag out from a hidden pocket of her dress, and bundle him up inside it and then whisk them both off to the library committee meeting? In front of all his coworkers? In the middle of a police station?

She was good at many things, and normally she would appreciate such a challenge, but there was also respecting your limits, and the circumstances in which she had to work in presently were highly unfavorable. Certainly, with so many witnesses.

"Look, I'm not happy about it either, but it's only for the rest of the school year," Adalind said briskly.

"The rest of the school year? That's eight months! That's nearly an eternity!" Nick exclaimed.

"Hardly," Adalind sniffed. "They only meet once a month."

"Right now," Nick retorted. "You can't tell me there's no chance that Valencia won't hijack the proceedings and somehow what was only a once-a-month commitment will become a weekly trip to hell and beyond, with Valencia undermining everything the committee decides. How the hell did we manage to draw the short-straw on that?"

"Connie Sebring and Martina McShaw developed kidney stones."

"Both of them? At the same time?"

"Supposedly. They're scheduled for surgery tomorrow, and there's like a three-month recovery time."

"From kidney stones?" Nick exclaimed. "Are you sure they both didn't decide now was the time to get a facelift?"

"Connie had one last year," Adalind replied. "I think if anything, she's probably doing a breast augmentation and a butt lift. I couldn't tell you what was still natural on Martina that was left to fix," she continued thoughtfully, and Nick rolled his eyes.

"Besides, you've been noticeably avoiding any and all things extra-curricular related with the school."

"What? Who's noticed?"

"I have," Adalind replied and Nick waved his hand in annoyance.

"Perhaps I should refresh your memory," Nick said, leaning back as Adalind crossed her arms over her chest.

"Perhaps I should refresh yours," Adalind taunted.

"I helped out at the concession stand," He began.

"Two days, for two hours, in which you gave up almost four weeks of sex trying to avoid," she scoffed derisively.

"And I went to that meeting," he continued, undeterred as he gave her a flinty look.

"What meeting?" Adalind retorted.

"The one with all the slides," Nick said, as though that explained everything. It didn't. Valencia was big on slides. The school was big on presentations in general.

"You've been to three meetings that didn't involve the immediate welfare of your son or daughter."

"I participated in that ridiculous charity fundraiser," he added.

"That had nothing to do with the school," Adalind replied.

"It had everything to do with Valencia," Nick was quick to point out.

"So, your defense is that in three years, you've participated in four extra-curriculars. Wow, you know when you sum those numbers up like that, it makes me want to call Sean back here and see if he can top that. I don't know, the bar's so low…" she said, and Nick scowled, temporarily marring his handsome features.

It wasn't fair, really. Nick was very involved in the education and welfare of his son and what was technically only his step-daughter, far more than Sean, who criticized every painstaking and well-researched decision Adalind made, but made no effort to be involved or informed beyond that.

"That's a great idea," Nick said, annoyed at the comparison, and dammit, while she might enjoy a good tete-a-tete with him from time to time, she didn't want to insult him and get him angry and completely uncooperative. He might claim that she was the willful, stubborn one, but Nick was more than a capable adversary when he dug his heels in.

"You can inform him that he's been drafted," Nick continued. "Even if it was only four—which I'm sure it's not—it's still four more than he's been involved in. So by all means. Call him back."

He gave her another defiant look, one eyebrow arching challengingly and now it was her turn to scowl.

Damn him. She loathed the thought of having to share in an already impossible and stressful role leading the library committee with Valencia on hand with her former lover. She and Sean had done a great job of avoiding one another and both made it a point to keep as much out of each other's path as possible. The only place where it was unavoidable were when matters of concern with Diana came up, and even then, they both tried to avoid involving the other. Adalind was perfectly content to have Nick to rely on and share in decisions regarding her daughter, and since she was living with and married to him, she thought it only fair he had a say anyway. Plus, he always had Diana's best interests at heart, something she could hardly say about Sean.

"Nick," she said after she took a deep breath, dropping her arms to her side. "Let's not fight about this."

Nick stared back, unmoved.

Two could play that game.

"You're Kelly's father—"

"I wouldn't even play that card," Nick interrupted. "I think we can both agree I've stepped up above and beyond as a father than either of us anticipated given the circumstances surrounding his creation." Adalind opened her mouth, lips formed in a perfect "O' of affected indignation (though what he said was true), as Nick continued before she could make a rebuttal.

"Renard is Diana's father. It seems to me, it would be a perfect representation to have both you and him spearheading the committee."

"If you stick me and Sean in the same room together he's likely to have a spear thrown through his head. I remember a really nice one from your aunt's weapons cache. It's a little charred, but the pointy end should still work, no problems."

Nick let out a dark chuckle.

"And that's to say nothing about you when I get my hands on you if I don't see you seated beside me in the library this Tuesday evening at six o'clock sharp. I wouldn't dare be late," she said, bracing one hand against the surface of his desk and the other on the arm of his chair as she leant down, looming over him in all of her artificial five foot-five height. "I may not be a hexenbiest anymore, but I'm not without the ability to make you suffer. And if I have to deal with Sean…boy, will you suffer."

Nick smiled thinly.

"You don't scare me," he said, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of her, the spicy perfume she wore, a gift from him last Christmas. He surged forward suddenly, taking her by surprise, and kissed her, a mostly brief but solid peck on the lips.

"Anyway, if that's all you've come to say, Hank and I still have work to do," he said, and Adalind became aware of Hank hovering behind her. He snatched the chair of his she had vacated back, as though she might try to retake it, and set what appeared to be a jelly donut on the desk beside his keyboard.

"A pleasure as always," Hank said to Adalind, managing to keep most of the sarcasm at bay.

"I mean it, Nick. I'm not doing this alone. Tuesday, six o'clock. Don't be late. And you," she said, turning to Hank," better not find any homicides for him to work then, either."

Hank gave her a look of annoyance.

"I'll tell all the criminals that you've got something really important going on and to wait until Wednesday," he snarked.

"Thank you," Adalind replied graciously, not at all bothered by the condescending tone.

"Tuesday. Six," she said sternly one last time to Nick. "Or so help me god the real hell that will unfold when I hunt you down and find you."

Nick mimed a salute and snatched the report Hank held.

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She glanced around nervously, looking for Nick. She was eyeing the south library door, the entrance she would peg him with using, as it was towards the back of the library and would allow him to sneak in and likely avoid any interactions with Valencia (and most of the wesen parents who were unaware a Grimm resided among them). Or at least, it would likely give him the opportunity to spot her first, and therefore take evasive action to get the hell out of her way.

Valencia was currently preoccupied with one of the presidents of an arts council, she wasn't sure which one, as there were several Valencia belonged to and supported, but Valencia had spied her setting up her notes and slides for the projector at the table that was laid out for the committee heads near the front of the room. She figured it was only a matter of time before she was the next victim and she wished Nick would hurry up and make his appearance since she wouldn't have to endure it alone. She had threatened him one more time with showing, thirty minutes ago, and he had promised he was almost done at work and would be on his way.

She registered someone pull out the chair to her right, and she felt a relieved smile spread across her face as she pulled some file folders from her briefcase.

"Finally, you had me kind of wor—" the words, and the smile, died on her lips when she looked up.

"This is supposed to be some kind of book meeting?"

"Sean?" she said, not believing her eyes.

"What are we expected to do here?"

" _You're_ not expected to do anything. Why are you here? Where's Nick?" she hissed, remembering at the last moment to lower her voice.

"He and Hank got called out to a robbery."

"I just talked to him thirty minutes ago!" she hissed.

"Well, he just got assigned the case as he was heading out the door," Sean said.

"By who?" Adalind exclaimed, though there was only one possible answer, and it was wearing a sharp tan suit with perfect creases in the pants.

"By me," Sean said coolly.

"Unbelievable," Adalind uttered, and it was the understatement of the year, certainly for what she was feeling and what she wanted to say.

"We're short staffed," Sean said, "Bauer and Holbrook were shot in the line of duty, and Tillerson is out with the flu. If it makes you feel any better, Nick fought tooth and nail to get out of it."

"Really?" Adalind said, taken aback in surprise.

"No, he stopped fighting almost immediately when I told him I would sit in for him on this 'incredibly important' meeting."

"Of course, he did," Adalind muttered, pulling out her phone and dialing Nick's number. It went straight to voicemail. "Oh, the hell, did you just—" Adalind sputtered, ending the call and quickly redialing.

"He's at a crime scene," Sean said mildly, taking a seat in the chair and looking out around him at the other occupants in the room, smiling benignly at a few who made eye contact.

"He's about to _be_ his own crime scene," Adalind retorted furiously. "Nick. Nick!" she shouted, and realized everyone was staring at her. She smiled brittlely and turned her back to the room. "Nick. Nicholas," she ground out in a much lower voice. "When I get my hands on you—" she began and registered Valencia beside her, introducing herself and making small talk with Sean.

"There's nowhere safe, you hear me," she threatened in a fierce whisper. "Nowhere. What you did—there's no coming back from that, Nick. I warned you."

"Adalind, I don't believe I've had the chance to get to know your handsome companion here," Valencia interrupted and Adalind spun around and offered another fake smile. "Is your husband not coming?" she asked innocently and Adalind pulled the phone away from her ear.

"Uh, no, apparently he got called out to a crime scene," she said, stabbing accusing eyes at Sean.

"Oh, he's always so busy working," Valencia confided to Sean, and Sean smiled charmingly in understanding. "Sighting him at a school function is like spotting a yeti or something. Weren't you the incredibly handsome police captain at the charity event?" she continued smoothly, eyeing Sean with interest.

"Well, I don't know about—" Sean began with faux modesty and Adalind rolled her eyes as Valencia interrupted him again.

"You were! I remember you, so tall," she said coyly and flashed another smile. "Do you know Adalind's Detective Burkhardt?"

"He's Detective Burkhardt's boss," Adalind said snappishly. "And the reason why Nick isn't here."

Sean glanced at Adalind, and offered a smile of apology. To Valencia, of course. Not that any apology from Sean about anything would have worked on Adalind.

"Duty calls, and two of my detectives were shot in the line of duty," he added, "and as such, we're short-staffed at the moment. Everyone's having to pick up some extra workload. Unfortunately, crime doesn't stop in Portland," he added with a pointed look at Adalind.

"No," Adalind agreed, shaking her head. "No, it doesn't. It's going to spike sharply when I get my hands on my soon to be dead husband," she muttered under her breath, flashing a murderous look at Sean, too, but it went unnoticed as he was focused on fending himself off from Valencia's advances.

"Are you taking his place on the library committee?" Valencia asked Sean. "Committee members are reserved for parents of the schoolchildren," she informed him apologetically.

"Temporarily stepping in," Sean replied. "Our daughter attends the school here," Sean told her, gesturing to Adalind. "I'm just here to show my support as a concerned parent. Adalind, of course, will handle everything, I'm sure," he said flashing another smile, this time at Adalind, as she glared daggers back.

"Oh, you must be Diana's biological father," Valencia said. "I didn't realize," and Adalind suppressed a smirk as Sean's smile dimmed a little.

"Pick up!" Adalind said into her phone, turning back to the scathing rebuke she was trying to leave on Nick's voice mail, but she was cut off as the voice messaging system ran out of room. She hung up again and dialed back.

"Diana goes to school with my little Remy, surely she's told you about him?" Valencia asked Sean, but fortunately he didn't have to fumble for a reply as Valencia barely paused for acknowledgement.

"You can't avoid me forever," Adalind said, when the leave message tone sounded again. "You live with me. You sleep next to me," she added. "It won't be anything to roll over one night and smother you in your sleep with a pillow or poison your Bolognaise. Nick!" she tried, but to no avail.

"Yes, Remy," Sean said, after a long-winded soliloquy from Valencia about her son. "Yes, Diana, she talks about him all the time."

Adalind snorted and rolled her eyes again.

"Do you spend much time with your daughter?" Valencia asked him.

"Not as much as I'd like," Sean replied, another piercing look at Adalind and she frowned.

"Yes, it's hard to sacrifice time away from your sex life to form meaningful bonds with your daughter," Adalind retorted, and Sean flashed a strained smile at Valencia, as though apologizing for an errant child. He fixed a darker look at Adalind, and she turned away, aware that this wasn't the time or place to get into the finer points of their battle over custody of Diana.

"Excuse me," she said distractedly as Nick's phone once again went straight to voice mail. She moved a couple of steps away from the table and Valencia took the opportunity to move a couple of steps closer as she perched a hip on the edge of the table in front of Sean.

"Well," she heard Valencia say after a moment, "It's never too late to get involved with your children's lives and their future. We're glad to have you on the committee."

"Committee?" Sean replied.

"Yes, for the library."

"What does the committee decide? What books to allow as part of the curriculum?"

"Oh, goodness, no, we have another committee for that," Valencia said with a giggle and Adalind was momentarily glad Nick wasn't there to hear that news.

"We have some big decisions to make with fundraising efforts and grants to apply for. As you can see, we're due for some upgrades, she said, waving her hand around them.

Sean looked up at the three-story marble ceiling and then around the expansive room, the second-floor nooks with floor to ceiling bookcases, the rows of Mac desktop computers near the east side, the works of donated fine art dotting the walls.

"Right, well, you can bet that Adalind and I will explore options from every angle. We only want the best for our children."

Dear God, she was never going to leave this nightmare. She still had a dozen motions to file on her case. And if Nick thought he was avoiding one by not being here, he was sorely mistaken. There would be another one, waiting for him, when he got home. She waited impatiently for the tell-tale tone.

"Okay, Nick, that's fine. Don't answer. If that's the way you want to play it, then that's the way you'll have it. I just hope you're ready, because it's game on, Grimm."

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	2. Chapter 2

"Uh-oh," Hank said to Nick. "Run."

"What?" Nick said distractedly, around a mouthful of chocolate donut. He was focused on preparing his cup of morning coffee and barely listening. It had been a late night, or early morning, depending on how you looked at it, considering neither Nick nor Hank left the station until about two hours ago to shower and shave and change clothes, after spending all night on a robbery case.

"Too late," Hank replied, stealthily moving away, and held up his coffee cup in salute and surrender as Adalind blew past. She was immaculately ensembled in a white-front and black-backed sheath dress with three quarter length sleeves and sky-high black heels. Her hair was straight, and her mouth was angry and determined. Hank doubted if she even saw him, so focused on Nick she was.

"Hey Adalind," Wu said, noticing her, and he managed to sidestep neatly away before she plowed over him. Nick apparently didn't hear this either, though with his enhanced hearing Hank wasn't sure how he didn't register the rumble of loose articles on the desks, and the picture frames rattling on the walls, and the sea of officers parting before Adalind as she thundered towards Nick.

"Uh-oh," Wu said as he and Hank watched her steam by from a safe distance away near their desks, intent on her target. "I think somebody's in trouble."

"Somebody has no idea the world of hurt he's going to be in, judging by that look."

"Somebody's about to find out."

"This is going to get ugly."

"Yup. Well, we haven't had anything exciting to talk about at the office for weeks," Wu said.

"What do you mean? Two of our detectives were just shot."

"Well, yeah, I mean there's that, but I'm talking something really juicy and entertaining."

Nick would be thrilled to know his love life was once again being discussed among the rest of the staff.

"Adalind," Nick said, finally catching sight of her, although she was hard to miss, standing practically on top of him now, seething.

"Nick," she managed to get out politely. Then she did something strange, and incredibly disturbing, given the general sense of malice that followed her path to her husband: She smiled at Nick. Hank felt a chill creep over him and suppressed a shudder as he and Wu glanced at each other. Nick eyed her warily, apparently understanding that his life might be at stake as he risked a glance at the unabashed gawkers around him, cup of coffee hovering in his hand between him and his wife.

"Adalind," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," she replied sweetly. "I missed you this morning…and last night," she added acerbically.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night," he began and Adalind started shaking her head. "I was going to call you," he continued, "but I lost my phone at the scene chasing after a suspect, and then Hank and I got busy trying to piece together the crime scene." Nick gestured to Hank with his mug and Adalind turned her blonde head obligingly. She caught sight of Hank standing twenty feet away next to Wu, and offered her frozen smile to him. Hank was sure if she still had her powers he would have turned to stone the moment she laid eyes on him. She turned her attention back to her husband.

"It's fine, Nick," she replied pleasantly. "I know how busy you are and how unpredictable work can be for you," and Nick nodded after a moment, likely wondering as the rest of them, why, if she sounded so understanding and agreeable, no one felt she looked it.

Hank doubted she came all this way in such a state to let him know she wasn't bothered by his absence last night. Another glance passed between Hank and Wu as Adalind continued.

"Since you lost your phone I take it you didn't get any of my messages?" she asked him.

"No, why?"

"That's too bad," she lamented.

"Did I miss something important?"

Adalind smiled.

Evilly.

Hank was harkened back to her glory days as a hexenbiest, and was infinitely glad she no longer had such powers at her disposal, since she seemed scary enough right now as her non-wesen self. Nick had had far more acrimonious encounters with her as her former self than his partner, so surely he recognized the danger.

"No, no. Not at all," she said. Nick eyed her for a beat longer and slowly brought the mug up to his lips. He contemplated his wife as he took a sip. "So, what did you do all night?"

"Hank and I spent it tracking the other suspect in the robbery, before we caught him. I would have called you if I still had my phone, but then we got caught up in the investigation. We just got done with the preliminary investigation and interrogation a couple of hours ago. I went home to change clothes, but you were already gone to work, I guess."

"Hmm," Adalind nodded solemnly in agreement. "Early morning. Lots to do," she said with another dangerous smile, pointedly enough that Hank got it, and probably Wu, but either Nick was sleep-deprived enough to miss the warning signs or subtle threats from Adalind barely registered anymore.

"Yeah, we've had to take on some extra workload, too. Couple of our the detectives were shot during an investigation. You remember Holbrook? And Bauer?"

"I heard," Adalind said with concern, affecting wide-eyes. "Going to be out for a few weeks, recuperating from their injuries I understand."

"Yeah," Nick said in surprise. "How'd you-?"

"Oh, Sean told me. Last night. At the committee meeting. Remember? The one you up and ditched me? Gotta say, they might not be the only ones recovering for weeks from their injuries."

"Adalind—"

"Oh, it's fine. _Fine_. We got _so_ much accomplished," she said, and Hank thought she looked a little deranged. "Sean was _so_ helpful. Did you know he and Valencia make quite the team! I think after last night, they might even be sleeping together, who knows?"

Hank grimaced at the thought.

"Adalind—"

"But you know, between the two of them, and the dozen motions I still have left to file at work, and the three client meetings, and two appearances in court, I now have seven grants to apply for, three budgets to construct, minutes to type up from our first committee meeting, two _more_ committee meetings to schedule before the end of the week, and oh, make sure my husband goes through the same excruciating pain and suffering I endured last night. Guess which one of those I'm looking forward to the most?"

"Adalind—"

"Well, I'll let you get back to work, since you're so busy. I just wanted to see you one last time," she said.

"Before what?" Wu murmured to Hank. Hank shrugged.

"His funeral?" Hank said to Wu.

"Bye Nick," Adalind said, as his brow furrowed in confusion, obviously wondering the same thing.

She whirled around, hair flying out, wisps of the platinum blonde strands striking Nick in the face. She waltzed out of the station, flashing another wicked smile at the officers watching them and called over her shoulder.

"Such a shame what happened to your phone."

%%%%%

"Shit, I think she's pissed," Nick said with a sigh to Hank after everyone watched her leave. It seemed the building breathed a collective sigh of relief at her exit, and Hank was doubly grateful that at no point did she cross paths with the captain, since, judging by her comments, she was likely just as infuriated with him as she was Nick.

"You _think_?" Hank echoed incredulously. "You should be thanking God she chose to never regain her powers after suppressing them, because I'm pretty sure she would have thrown you through a wall. Actually, you would probably be grateful if that's all it was."

"She caused enough havoc even when she _wasn't_ a hexenbiest. Remember all that stuff with Juliette? She was as human as me and you when she cast that spell," Wu said to Nick. "What did you _do_?"

"Nothing," Nick said defensively. Wu gave him a disbelieving look.

"Really?" he said. " _That_ was nothing?"

"Oh, he did something, all right," Hank told Wu.

"Yes, my job," Nick retorted, curtly. "Which apparently now I'm going to be punished for, since doing it meant missing some stupid meeting or committee we both got nominated to but didn't want."

"Oh boy," Wu said. "For the school? Did I hear her say the captain was there?"

"Yes, he volunteered to go."

"I think volunteered might be a little misleading," Hank interjected, giving Nick a look. "Especially since you sort of guilted him into taking your place."

"Hey, he's the parent of a child who attends the school. You know how many times I've filled in for him?"

"You really think that was wise?" Hank asked Nick, and Nick shrugged noncommittally. He glanced at Hank, and then Wu staring expectantly at Nick, and took another, longer, sip of his coffee.

"Probably not," Nick conceded.

"Definitely not," Wu said. "Were we not all just witness to one incredibly pissed off – and can I just say, just as scary as when she was – former hexenbiest? You better apologize," Wu said to Nick.

"You better start kissing ass," Hank rebutted. "The sooner the better. Certainly, for you."

 _And for the rest of us,_ he thought, remembering how Nick and Adalind's "disagreements" could escalate.

"Well, not too soon," Wu objected, and Hank rolled his eyes. "I'm sure I speak for most of the station when I say I'd like to see how this all plays out," he mumbled.

"Probably with us holding services for a once promising detective."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Nick insisted. "I'll just explain to her again about work. It's not my fault we're short-staffed and we landed a robbery because of it. I didn't ask to be assigned the case. She should be pissed at the captain, not me."

"I'm sure she is," Hank replied mildly. "You can bet she's planning something especially diabolical for him. Just remember, whatever she does to you, she loves _you_."

%%%%%

"I see the explanation was well-received," Hank observed. Nick gave him a sour look, and dabbed at a large stain on the front of his shirt.

"She's being ridiculous," Nick muttered.

"Hey, you married her," Hank replied, eliciting another black look from his partner. Frankly, he kind of thought Adalind's anger was justified, though Nick was right: he had had no choice in the matter of taking on the case. Hank had offered for he and Wu to take point on it so Nick could attend his meeting, but the captain would have none of it, insisting Nick and Hank get to the scene immediately. Hank suspected it was all part of the pissing contest Nick and the captain had been engaged in ever since their battle over custody of Diana. Which was why Nick had returned the favor and basically misled the captain into taking his place. Hank had known it was a bad idea from the start.

"I'm telling you, you need to start groveling now."

Nick made a face and threw the napkin he was using on his shirt towards the trash.

"It's too late for groveling," Nick sighed.

"Not if you do it right," Hank insisted.

"I dialed my voicemail on my way back from lunch," Nick said, seemingly changing the subject. Lunch was when Nick obtained his stained shirt, having made it a point to drive all the way to Adalind's office to plead his case.

"And?"

"And I had twelve messages, eight of which were from Adalind, the content of which consisted of escalating threats of bodily harm for missing the library meeting."

"Well, look on the bright side. I suppose if you want we could arrest her for making threats against an officer. We got it all on tape."

"What good would that do?" Nick said. "She hasn't killed anybody. Yet. We do that, and she's out on bail in a couple of hours with my head in her sights."

"Your head is already in her sights," Hank returned.

"Yes, but she'll be really pissed," Nick argued.

"Are you under the impression she's not now?"

"If we can't keep her locked up indefinitely we're going to have to figure out something else."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. We? How did this become we? This isn't my problem," Hank said, and Nick frowned. "If I wanted a wife to threaten me, may I remind you I had four of them to choose from. I don't need yours. Did you even try groveling?" Hank asked him.

"We didn't get to the groveling portion," Nick said.

"You _start_ with the groveling portion," Hank snapped. "Did you learn nothing from your time with Juliette? How is it you're even married?"

"If it worked so well with you, how is it you're not?" Nick retorted.

"What about something else?" Hank said. "Is there anything she wants?"

"Besides making me suffer?"

"Obviously."

"The captain suffering," Nick said, looking contemplative.

"If you're planning on pissing the captain off more let me know now so I can take vacation, or transfer out of the department."

"Maybe that's the key," Nick said thoughtfully, not listening. "I just need to remind Adalind who's really at fault here."

"You?" Hank said.

"I didn't volunteer for the case. Did you?"

"The captain? Yes, great idea, because having the captain and Adalind even more at each other's throats is what we need. Certainly, what Diana needs," Hank pointed out and Nick cocked his head, conceding the point.

"You're right," Nick said, and Hank leaned back in his chair, glad he'd convinced Nick to abandon that idea. "It's easy to blame Renard, when this whole situation is really because of Valencia. She's at the root of this. Neither Adalind nor I asked for this. This is extra workload on both of us when we already have enough going on with the kids, and our jobs, and let's not forget our other job that keeps us occupied most days and nights."

"Right," Hank said, deadpan.

"I'll bring it up tonight."

"Why not call her now?" Hank retorted sarcastically.

"I doubt she'll pick up. Besides, it'll give me time to let my shirt finish drying out."

%%%%%

"I've been thinking," Nick began when he got home. The hour was late, and the kids were already in bed. He'd been busy with his robbery case for most of the day, but he had also been procrastinating. Hank had given him a knowing look when he had spied Nick at his desk, working on a summary report that he would normally leave off writing for two more weeks.

Adalind was seated on one of the barstools next to the counter, going over something for work by the looks of it. She paused in her scribbling as she looked up and flashed icy blue eyes at him.

"I don't have to remind you how dangerous that can be for you, especially lately. You might want to tread carefully."

"Ha, ha," Nick said. "No, what I mean is, why are you angry at me?"

"Really? You want me to go over it again?"

"No, the list you cited at lunch is like a stain on my memory, much like the one on my shirt," Nick replied dryly. "I meant it more rhetorically. You know? Why are we angry at each other?"

"I wasn't aware you were upset with me," Adalind cut in coolly. "What, pray tell, have _I_ done?"

"Nothing," Nick said quickly, and she frowned in irritation. "But we're both upset about the circumstances we found ourselves in, what with Valencia dumping another school responsibility that we both didn't ask for, and that we both don't have time for."

"Uh-huh," Adalind said. "To be fair, all the other parents participate in activities to support the school. In fact, it's written in the school policies and parent handbook."

"It is? There's a parent handbook?" Nick said, momentarily diverted, and she huffed a sigh.

"Yes, you signed a paper stating you had read it and would abide by the rules and expectations set forth in it. We both did."

"I did? When?" Nick exclaimed.

"When we enrolled Kelly," she said impatiently.

"Wait, that two-thousand-page tome I had to go through and sign a hundred different pages as part of his admissions process?"

"Yes."

"I'm pretty sure none of those signatures count. I was under duress," Nick replied.

"Whatever," Adalind retorted, already tiring of this conversation. Letting Nick get on a roll about the school was not something she was in the mood to entertain tonight, especially since she still had to get budget figures to Ansheimler to make the Friday deadline, and Valencia had offered to (read: insisted on) look it over first. She turned her attention back to the documents she was reviewing.

"Anyway, it might be different if we were given forewarning about when we were due to fulfill a commitment to the school or even got to choose the commitments we were interested in or that fit our schedule. Instead we're always subject to whatever whim or initiative Valencia's supporting."

"What commitment is going to fit our schedule, Nick? We have enough trouble sometimes making time for our commitment to _us_."

"Well, we can rectify that right now," Nick said with a semi-hopeful smile and Adalind gave him a withering look.

"You know what I mean. There's never going to be anything the school does or offers that's going to fit with our schedules, especially yours," she said.

Which meant that everything fell on Adalind, as it usually did when it was something related to the school. And truly, she did understand that Nick's job, his whole life, was unpredictable, and that many things that happened in either aspect were often times beyond his control, but she was also a little sick of being the one shouldering all the workload.

Which she supposed wasn't fair. Nick shouldered plenty as a Grimm and a cop, and he was a devoted father and husband, who keenly felt the conflict every working parent felt of not being able to spend as much time with his children as he would like. Maybe he was right. Maybe they needed to push back against Valencia and all her committees and micro-managing. Yes, there were commitments to the school that Adalind was willing to support, but she was already working two full-time jobs as a lawyer and mother, not to mention the part-time one where she helped out Nick with Grimm things from time to time.

She looked back down at the numbers she was trying to make sense of, staring at them, and the notes she had made in the margins. She had spent the last hour or so after putting the kids to bed looking over them. She was exhausted. Even the prospect of making Nick suffer a little, enjoying another one of their fun little torture games, had lost it luster, and now just seemed like another thing to do on a very long list.

Which was the real crime, she reflected, since they both always enjoyed the challenge of besting the other.

"What are you working on?" Nick ventured, glancing down where she was looking.

"Budget figures for the library committee. I'm supposed to turn them into Ansheimler this Friday. Valencia offered to review them."

Nick snorted, coughed when Adalind glared at him, and then stared down at the mess of numbers before he glanced up at his wife.

"Seriously, this is what I'm talking about. You're exhausted. Go to bed."

"I'm almost done," Adalind said stubbornly. Which wasn't exactly true. She reckoned she was about half-done and she was certain after she gave the data to Valencia she would find she was only a quarter of the way done at best. Likely she would have to start all over. She sighed despairingly.

"Adalind," Nick said, "Come to bed. I wouldn't worry about it."

But she would worry about it. She was Adalind Schade-Burkhardt, a fast-rising attorney in one of the top law firms in the city. An able problem-solver and task-master, and working mom, who could do it all, or so she told herself every day. To leave this unfinished…half-done…went against every grain of her being.

Nick must have sense her indecision, since he stepped closer, slipping an arm around her and pressing his lips against her neck.

"It's late. You're tired, I'm tired. We have more important things to focus on."

She knew exactly what Nick was wanting to focus on, since she doubted he was so tired as to completely take sex off the menu.

Except he was right. She was tired. She wanted to go to bed, and a late-night romp with Nick didn't sound so unappealing if she didn't have so much left to do. She'd more than earned a little diversion, and he could be incredibly attentive, especially if he was trying to make amends.

And after sticking her with Sean last night, he definitely had some to make.

"I'm still irritated with you about the whole Sean thing," Adalind reminded him.

"Again, isn't that really Valencia's fault?" Nick murmured, nipping her earlobe.

"Pretty sure that one falls on you," she retorted, "since I don't know how else he knew to be there but from information you provided." She closed her eyes when Nick's lips ghosted over her cheek.

"I was trying to talk my way out of taking on another case since I knew you were expecting me."

"Uh-huh," she said. She suspected there was some truth to Sean's claim that Nick wasn't all that disappointed about being handed a case the last minute and not having to attend the meeting.

"Come to bed," he whispered.

"If I go to bed with you now, who's going to finish these figures?" she said, opening her eyes and pointing to the papers on the counters.

"I'll make it worth your while," he added enticingly.

"Good, you'll finish this and give it to Valencia and Ansheimler?"

Nick paused in his ministrations. She eyed him calculatingly. "Sure," he said unconvincingly, and then added with more confidence, "I might even do one better. How about I get you and I off this blasted committee once and for all?"

"How do you plan to do that?" Adalind asked skeptically.

"I'm going to work my magic."

"God help us. You might stick with something you're good at. Are there any unpaid parking tickets in Valencia's background?"

"Wow, that's just hitting below the belt, isn't it?"

"Sorry. I'm still pissed. Besides, I believe that magic is more my specialty."

"Well, feel free to cast any hexes on Valencia."

"You don't know how tempting it is," Adalind admitted. She cast another conflicted look at the work set out before her as Nick slipped nimble fingers under her shirt. A moment later it was gone, the chill of the room abated by the warmth of Nick's body against hers.

"I've spent all night going through the budget numbers," she said between kisses, and she saw Nick's face scrunch up in momentary confusion. "You will take care of everything? You have to promise me you'll come through."

Nick was concentrating now on divesting her of the rest of her garments, but he glanced up when she stayed him with a hand against his chest. He met her anxious blue eyes with his ardent green ones, and his face softened slightly at her expression. Then he smiled, slow and sexy.

"Don't I always?"

%%%%%

"What is that? Calculus?"

Nick jumped, having been so engrossed in trying to figure out Adalind's notes on the budget figures he didn't realize Wu had come up behind him.

"Budget numbers," Nick said.

"If it's numbers why are there so many letters?" Wu returned, and Nick shook his head. He had no idea, which was half the problem. The letters represented some form of shorthand that apparently only Adalind, and likely Valencia (it was probably her idea) understood, but Nick had yet to crack the code. He had completely forgotten about the budget and his promise to take care of it, still heady from the buzz of a night well spent with Adalind.

Naturally she hadn't.

The way she slapped the budget papers against his chest on her way out the door made him wonder if this had been her endgame all along. Certainly the smirk was suspect, and he was reminded she hadn't lost any of her competitiveness - and deviousness - in the years they'd been together.

He supposed he could call Adalind and ask what the letters meant, but he felt that might cast doubt on his ability and promise to take care of it, and though he didn't mind irritating Adalind from time to time for his own amusement, he understood she took care of a lot (not the least of which was their children), often times on her own and without having to consult him, and typically without complaint.

"It's like a code, isn't it?" Wu continued, studying it carefully.

"I guess," Nick said.

"I used to love cryptography," Wu said. "Do you mind?" he asked, pointing at the pages on Nick's desk, hands hovering as though itching to take them.

"Have at it," Nick said, gathering them up and shoving them into his hands. He had until Friday to get them to Ansheimler, and he was still toying around with the idea of telling Valencia to take her committees and shove it. Although, perhaps more politely than that.

He was forced to put thoughts of committees, budgets, and Valencia on the back burner as work came to the forefront and he and Hank were soon immersed in the robbery case. He went through one of their witness' statements, alluding to another robbery, which might, based on the M.O., be part of something more sinister than merely a string of robberies when he was rudely reminded of his promise to Adalind.

"Ah, Detective Burkhardt," he heard, and came aware of an extravagantly attired figure standing next to his desk. He looked up from his computer and suppressed a sigh at the sight of Valencia Stewardson looking at him expectantly.

"Ms. Stewardson. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I was told by your wife that you had the figures for the budget?"

"And I was told that I had until Friday to turn them in," Nick replied with as much politeness as he could muster.

"Yes, well, I told Adalind that I would do a preliminary review as I'd hate to turn in anything sight-unseen to Dr. Ansheimler, since there's always a little tweaking necessary. I can't stand to waste her time."

 _So you waste ours?_ Nick wanted to ask.

"I assume you have something ready?" she prompted, with another discerning look.

"I'm still going over some things," Nick replied smoothly. "Besides, I know how valuable your time is, as is mine," he added, thinking of all the work he still had to do on the investigation, which, like all his cases, naturally had a wesen aspect he still had to research.

Valencia eyed him critically.

"Detective Burkhardt, I'm repeatedly reminded by your wife you have a busy and unpredictable schedule, so I'm afraid I have to express some doubt as to your ability to follow through on the deadline imposed."

"I couldn't agree more," Nick said, seeing an opening. "As does my wife, which is why I have to express my disbelief in your appointing us to heads of some committee when you know this."

Valencia bristled.

"All parents are expected to assist in matters related to the school and its functions," she said primly. "It's a requirement that is outlined in the parent handbook. The library committee is one of the most important group of decision makers the school can have. Appointments to it were not taken lightly, neither was the decision to have your wife in charge of it. I confess I was worried how much involvement you would devote to the project, but I was most impressed with your stepdaughter's father and his interest in ensuring a quality educational experience for her and the other children."

Nick resisted an eye roll at the reminder of Renard, and the idiotic parent handbook.

"I don't believe my wife or I have any objection to offering support where we can—but that's just it. We're tasked with committees or duties without consultation or regard to the fact we both have lives and careers outside of the school, not to mention other responsibilities," he said, thinking of his life as a Grimm.

"Detective Burkhardt, we all give up a portion of our extraordinarily busy lives to support our children. Or at least, certainly, your wife does," she added condescendingly, and Nick narrowed his eyes. He supported the children (or at least his) with monthly payments from his paycheck for the ungodly sum of their bloated tuition. "Putting in some extra time is one of the sacrifices we make for the privilege of a child attending such an exceptional school."

"Yeah, it's fine when it's _some_ time, but it's like another full-time job," Nick retorted. "I already have two."

Valencia raised an eyebrow, trying to quell her surprise.

"Detective-work and being a father," he added, realizing his almost slip.

"Detective Burkhardt, if you believe the school requirements are beyond what you and your wife are able to fulfill, perhaps you should consider other educational avenues for your children. If you'd like, I can take the issue up with Ansheimler next time I see her."

Adalind would kill him if he got their kids kicked out of that school, and he couldn't deny that both Kelly and Diana were thriving in its environment, one that catered to wesen children. Which made him wonder about Valencia's own, but he'd never seen anything out of her that would make him think she was wesen, but not all the children who attended the elite school were wesen. Still, he had often wondered about her husband, of whom Nick had seen precious little. He was always conveniently busy during the many, varied school activities or functions, a talented OB/GYN who had his own demanding career that apparently _he_ got a pass on for all school functions.

"Actually," he said, raising an eyebrow at the threat, "that's a great idea. I think we should all talk to her."

%%%%%

Which is exactly how they all wound up in the principal's office.

Adalind was sitting rigidly beside him, worried and beyond irritated at what this meeting might mean for her children. She had barely spoken two words to him in the lobby, a rare and disconcerting feat, since Adalind usually tended to babble nervously when she was worried or freaked out about something.

"It's going to be fine," he said, trying to reassure her before Ansheimler arrived.

"How is it going to be fine?" she hissed. "All you had to do was finish the budget numbers! It didn't even have to be perfect, it was only the first draft. I had it all right there, it was nearly complete!"

"Are you kidding me?" Nick said. "That thing was like Greek to me. Even Wu couldn't figure it out," Nick added.

"Why was Wu even looking at it?" Adalind retorted. "You told me _you_ would take care of it!"

"I will," Nick said confidently.

"By getting our children kicked out of one of the best schools in the country?! Where is Diana going to go? I can't quit my job and homeschool her. We need the money!"

Except if it came to that, that's exactly what Adalind would do if it meant the welfare of her children, but he didn't think pointing that out would be wise.

Valencia's arrival forced Nick to bite back his retort that they only needed the money because of the outrageous - despite however discounted it supposedly was - tuition for the school, and the new house Adalind had insisted they needed when Diana moved in with them, located in a decidedly more upscale neighborhood than the loft. Valencia took a seat across from them as Adalind plastered on a polite smile at her nemesis and Valencia returned it with a cold one.

That sat in silence for a few minutes before Ansheimler's secretary informed them they could take a seat at the conference table in Ansheimler's office. They had all taken their seats, except Nick, who stood and graciously held out a chair for his wife (who glared at him regardless) before preparing to take his own when Dr. Ansheimler came in.

"Mrs. Stewardson," Ansheimler said politely, and maybe a touch resignedly. "Mrs. Burkhardt," she said with slightly more warmth, extending her hand for them to shake when she caught sight of Nick and faintly jumped. "Mist-Detective," she said eyeing him in surprise. "What…an unexpected pleasure," she said quickly, offering her hand to Nick before snatching it away nervously.

"Dr. Ansheimler," Nick intoned, not about to put her at ease. Ansheimler was the wesen head of the school, and also very aware that Nick was a Grimm (hence the discounted tuition rate). His intention was to use that to his advantage, and so he didn't bother with his usual (and usually futile, anyway) attempts to put Ansheimler at ease.

"I understand there's an issue with some of the parent participation requirements?" she said, looking at Adalind and Valencia but it was Nick who answered before Valencia could open her mouth.

"I believe I speak for my wife when I say we have no problem supporting the school, and upholding our end of the participation agreements, but we do object to the fact that we have no say in what agreements we're tasked to."

Ansheimler nodded seriously and took a seat at the head of the table, opening a portfolio and jotting some notes on a notepad.

"As you know, my wife and I have very demanding jobs," he said. "My job can be very violent and unpleasant, but necessary," he continued ominously and Ansheimler darted dark eyes to him. She woged briefly before she regained control of her composure. "Adalind's is hectic, and she handles a good portion of the responsibilities with the children since my life can be so unpredictable. That doesn't mean we're any less devoted parents, or that we're trying to shirk our responsibilities to the school, but we feel that having more say in the activities we participate in would be beneficial to everyone involved."

"I see," Ansheimler said.

"My wife is generally the one tasked to things without any consultation about whether she's able to shoulder the extra work."

"Uh-huh," Ansheimler said.

"I'm willing to help out where I can as well, just that I need more than a few hours' notice that I'm going to be committed to some activity that is going to take up weeks of my time. We're short-handed down at the station right now, so I foresee it being even more difficult to make time for things, not the least of which is my wife and children."

"Dr. Ansheimler," Valencia interjected. "I understand the Burkhardt's time is precious, but that can be said of all the parents," Valencia replied. "I donate hours of my valuable time each week in between ferrying Remy to his lessons, Savvy to dance, and attending, and usually hosting, dinners and fundraisers for my husband."

"Who I note isn't here," Nick said, and Adalind huffed a sigh, having heard Nick expound on that fact numerous times.

"He's in surgery, delivering the mayor's granddaughter," Valencia sniffed.

"So? I'm trying to catch a homicidal bank robber that's been implicated in a string of violent burglaries, in addition to three other open homicides I'm working. I'm still here. And I'm still expected to be here whenever there's anything going on with the school, no matter how minor," Nick added. Which might be a slight-exaggeration, since Adalind rarely insisted on his attending their children's quarterly progress reports.

"As I said before Detective, if the requirements of the school are beyond you, perhaps your children should go to school elsewhere. There are plenty of other parents that would be more than happy for the opportunity to fulfill their duties if it meant their children were students here," Valencia replied.

"And as _I_ said, we're willing to meet the requirements, but we'd both prefer to have some say in what we do, and what we reasonably _can_ do," Nick shot back. "Which I don't think in itself is unreasonable," Nick added, staring hard at Ansheimler.

"Mrs. Burkhardt, do you have anything you'd like to add?" Ansheimler asked a noticeably silent Adalind. Nick and Valencia both looked at her expectantly. Adalind bit back a frown, but not a look at Nick and sat up straighter in her chair.

"Of course, we'll fulfill whatever commitments we need to the school," Adalind assured Ansheimler, obviously worried that she might take Valencia's suggestion seriously and kick them and Kelly and Diana out. "I don't mind helping out, really," she added, and Nick almost snorted in disbelief before he caught himself, and the pointy heel of Adalind's shoe in his shin. "But I do agree with my husband that it could be to everyone's benefit, especially the school's, to ensure the activities parents commit to are within their ability to fulfill."

"I do have a very rough draft of the budget," Nick said, and Adalind didn't bother to hide her snort. Neither did Valencia, "but the whole library committee might be better served with a set of parents who can devote the time and resources to leading it. With what is going on in both our jobs, this isn't the right time to add more responsibilities."

"I can't possibly take on one more thing," Valencia insisted to Ansheimler. Ansheimler opened her mouth.

"Nobody's asking you to," Nick said. "We're only asking that we get the chance to choose what we want to do, or at least what we can do. How is the decision made any way as to what parents are given what?"

Ansheimler glanced at Nick and then Valencia, and rubbed her forehead.

"I'm acting-president of the parent's council," Valencia stated coolly. "As I thought you were aware." Adalind glanced reproachfully at Nick and Nick deduced it was probably something he was supposed to know or should have heard. "We decide which parents will be the best fit with the required duties."

Which made sense, since the incredibly capable Adalind always seemed to draw the short-stick of fundraisers or committees, all of them usually helmed or held dear by Valencia, and thus they suffered from her total over-involvement in them.

"Of course, if I left it to everyone to choose, you can imagine what sort of chaos would erupt with that scenario," Valencia continued. "Hardly anything would get done, or everyone would volunteer for the performing arts committee, or the silent auction, and no one would volunteer for the cafeteria audit."

Nick didn't ask what the cafeteria audit entailed, or specifically what would need to be done at a parental level.

"If you let one do it, what's to stop others from demanding the same treatment?"

"Look, I'm trying to work with you here, but if you don't want to help me help you…" Nick began, letting the sentence hang, as he looked pointedly at Ansheimler, and she swallowed nervously.

"Perhaps we can take a moment and acknowledge that Mr. Burkhardt is sincere about finding a middle ground," Ansheimler said to Valencia and she flicked her eyes in disbelief at the woman. Ansheimler ignored the look and smiled encouragingly.

"Mr. Burkhardt, Mrs. Burkhardt. If you were able to volunteer for another committee or activity, what do you feel you could commit your time to?"

"What other options are there? Do you have a list?"

"Look, I'm fine with the helping on the library committee," Adalind cut in, "I just need it to stay within the parameters it was originally presented to me as. Since the first meeting, I now have two extra budgets to prepare on top of the original, and two more meetings to plan this week. And the week's almost over," she added, and Ansheimler looked at her in surprise.

"Two more budgets? And meetings?" She glanced questioningly at Valencia, who jutted out her chin.

"I believe you can agree it's always best to explore every option," Valencia said and Ansheimler eyed her a moment longer before turning her attention back to a shelf on her wall of bookcases. She pulled out a two-inch binder and present it to Nick.

"This contains a list and description of all our extra-curriculars and activities parents participate in. I'm certain we can find something that will satisfy all the interested parties."

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End file.
